swirl of thoughts

i have so many things on my mind right now, and i am presently wishing my mind was a big blank. then maybe i could lie down and take a little nap before i leave to drive to dallas with like twelve other people. it should be fun, but a nap would guarantee a happy mood and little cynicism. but alas, too many thoughts and no drool found on my pillow case.

tonight will be the first opportunity for the boys to strike back, given that the girls will all be at one place at one time. but i don't think there is a plan in action. and for that reason, i am not too anxious about it. but i am still thinking about what they could possibly do to get us and what would the girls do when it is our turn to prank again.

i have been called many things in life. twenty-two years is enough time to rack up a list of nice and not so nice names. for example, i have been called: nice, silly, a smart ass, a princess, charming, rude, spoiled, selfish, talented, friendly, mean, giving, mature, immature, loving, generous, welcoming, outgoing, brave, weak, funny, beautiful, bright, a bitch, annoying, weird...and last week i was told that someone called me pretentious. of course, i am sure i have been called a lot of other things, but those are the commonly heard and/or remembered ones. pretentious. pretentious. okay, i openly admit, even on this blog, that i am a snob, but pretentious? and i was called pretentious by two girls i don't even know and who don't even really know me. and they made the evaluation that i am pretentious over three years ago, during my freshmen year at college. and this really pisses me off. mainly because when i was a freshmen i was a very sad person. that person, that lindsay, is not the me i am today. today, you can call me a snob. today you can call me whatever you would like, and i am fine with it, because i am fine with me. but these girls called me pretentious when i was an incredibly depressed person. and for that, i am pissed. and i am having a hard time forgetting and caring less about it.

stephani and i had this long, late night conversation about vaginas and vegetarianism. my two favorite v topics. i am always surprised, some how, by the fact we don't agree on anything, which is probably not completely true but just seems like it. she didn't understand how claiming your vagina as your own is empowering. nor did she think it is necessary to be proud of your female sex in order to gain the same rights as men. we should not have to pretend to be men in order to be successful. we should not change who we are or not talk openly about who we are to please other people. i am a woman. i have a vagina. and i like it that way. and you will respect that i have one and that i like it.

i had a dream a few nights ago that i saw myself at five years old. i thought of all these things i wanted to tell this five years old lindsay. i wanted to tell her that she will be okay. i wanted to tell her that she will make mistakes. i wanted to tell her that she is beautiful and that she is brave. i wanted to tell her that she should always be herself and not shift and form into what she thinks others want her to be. but i didn't say anything. i just pulled her up into my lap, brushed her soft, curly hair off her face, and looked into her her blue eyes.